


Pierced

by Neroli66



Series: Kink Wars [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nipple Piercings, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-02
Updated: 2006-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neroli66/pseuds/Neroli66
Summary: Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me; they are the property of Eric Kripke, The CW and some other folks, all not me.A/N: Written as part of theKink Warseries withkueble, this is set right after her ficIt's On.Beta'd by the lovelykashmir1, with addictional hand holding byarabella_hope. Any remaining suckage is mine.





	Pierced

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me; they are the property of Eric Kripke, The CW and some other folks, all not me.  
> A/N: Written as part of the [Kink War](http://tarnished-muse.livejournal.com/9143.html) series with [](https://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](https://kueble.livejournal.com/) , this is set right after her fic [It's On](http://kueble-fic.livejournal.com/27586.html).Beta'd by the lovely [](https://kashmir1.livejournal.com/profile)[**kashmir1**](https://kashmir1.livejournal.com/) , with addictional hand holding by [](https://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/)**arabella_hope**. Any remaining suckage is mine.

  
Sam couldn’t believe he was here standing in a tattoo and piercing shop, especially one called "Kink Ink". Damn Dean and his stupid kink war. While he was at it, damn his weakness for Dean’s wicked lips as well.

He’d hoped the promise to think about it would satisfy his brother, but no, Dean had popped off his cock so fast last night that Sam’s head was _still_ spinning. The worst part had been Dean locking those fucking cuffs around his wrists before turning over and pulling the sheets up; leaving Sam frustrated and harder than stone, trussed up so he couldn’t even jerk himself off.

It had felt like he’d lain there for hours before he’d heard his raspy voice saying, “Fine, I’ll do it Dean. I’ll get my ear pierced.” At the time he’d meant it, and the speed that Dean had shown in getting those lips wrapped around his aching cock once Dean had his pledge had been worth it. Now, Sam wasn’t so sure though.

Why did Dean want him to pierce his ear anyway? It was silly, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for something symbolic of his belonging to Dean being so visible.

“Dean,” he said, turning to his brother with a plea in his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“You promised, Sammy,” Dean looked back at him, his expression dangerously bland in the dim lighting. “I already paid you for this.”

Sam worried at his lower lip with his teeth while he considered Dean’s words. He was right, Sam had promised, and they never went back on promises to each other.

But they went through a hell of a lot of backwater towns and there were already enough stares at them as it was. Nearly everywhere they went, the townsfolk’s first assumption was that they were lovers - which they _were_ , but that wasn’t the point - it was like they brought some evil gay plague with them wherever they went; he didn’t want to know how much worse it could get.

“What about someplace else?” Sam begged, encouraged by the darkening of Dean’s eyes. “Someplace less obvious, hidden? Your choice Dean, just make it somewhere no one but you will ever see.”

Dean stood there for what seemed like hours studying him, sizing up the offer; unmindful of the big, burly guy covered in tattoos starting to stare at them curiously. Finally Dean gave a nod and Sam let out the breath he’d been holding.

Of course, all thought of breathing deserted him as Dean’s hand languidly lifted up and casually flicked over Sam’s right nipple with the back of a knuckle. Even through the layers of shirts, Sam felt that touch like a shock shooting straight down to his cock. Sam wet his lips nervously as Dean’s lips quirked into a smile, all hope that he’d misunderstood the action dissolving before it formed.

Dean slanted towards him as he stood there indecisively. His warm breath blowing against Sam’s neck as Dean whispered low and dark in his ear.

“We could get matching Prince Albert’s, if you’d prefer.”

Sam was instantly hard and leaking at the image, a soft whimper escaping his lips before he could stop it. His eyes met the tattooed man’s as a slow, knowing smile crossed the other’s lips. It was like he knew _exactly_ what Dean had just suggested.

“No,” he answered quickly, hating the high-pitched squeak his voice insisted on come out in almost as much as the blush he knew was staining his cheeks. “I’ll do the nipple.”

He felt the hot flush deepen on his neck as Dean leaned back with a deep, raspy laugh low in his throat.

“I thought you might,” Dean drawled up at him as he grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him over to the chair. The tattoo artist’s smile deepened as they approached, he didn’t even twitch as Dean announced. “My boy here wants his nipple pierced.”

Which was more than Sam could say for himself. He blinked at Dean, wondering which Demon had taken his _“absolutely no fucking PDA’s”_ brother and replaced him with this doppelganger. It was the only explanation for the fact that Dean had released his grip from Sam’s arm and now had it draped over Sam’s shoulder.

The older man just nodded and swiveled his chair around to grab a nasty looking clamp and some sterilized needles, “You want a bar or ring? Pick one out over there.”

“Go for the bar,” Dean whispered, so close to Sam’s ear that he could feel his brothers’ lips twist in an evil grin, as they moved to the display. “Less to grab onto, easier to twist”

Sam watched, bemused, as Dean perused the selections available, poking first one barbell, then the next. “We need one that will fit you snug,” he was saying, “not too tight though.”

“Dude,” Sam bit down a laugh as it dawned on him that this was _not_ a spur of the moment request on Dean’s part. “How long have you been researching this?”

He was rewarded with a flare of red across the back of Dean’s neck before his brother turned and flashed a _yeah-you caught me-so what_ grin back at him.

“A while,” Dean replied, his tone to light to fool Sam. But before Sam could call him on it, he snatched one of the packages and held it up over Sam’s chest; his thumbs smoothing the layers tight across Sam’s nipple so he could gauge the size. “This one should work.”

As soon as Dean had maneuvered him back to the chair and Sam had settled into it, the man in front of him stuck out a meaty hand.

“Name’s Cliff, by the way,” he said as Sam shook it. “I’ll be your piercer today.”

“Sam,” he responded automatically, tension settling in his stomach as the moment drew near. “And this is Dean.”

“Before we start there’s a few things we should cover,” Cliff said as he handed Sam a zerox’d sheet of paper, suddenly all business. “Most body piercings take three to five months to heal, no touching the piercing for two full weeks, at least. Except to clean it, you got that?”

Sam nodded dumbly before letting his gaze shift to Dean, who was sitting next to him listening calmly as Cliff continued on the topic of sanitary practices. Dean didn’t seem fazed by the two week no touching rule; in fact, Dean didn’t seem fazed by any of this.

It was enough to make him wonder if Dean had bought someone a piercing before. Sam ducked his head to hide the sudden anxiety as Dean turned to smile at him. He saw the flash of concern on Dean’s face, felt the warm hand press reassuringly against his knee and hoped that Dean took it as nervousness about the impending needles.

By the time his nerves steadied again, he’d been staring at the sheet in his hand long enough to realize it covered the same things as Cliff’s speech.

*****

Dean couldn’t take his eyes off Cliff as he ran the razor carefully over Sam’s skin; he pushed down the thought of _Mine_ as the other man worked. He could handle watching someone else paw Sammy, just this once.

Having Sam wear his ring – or bar as the case may be, smooth and shining silver against his tan skin – would make it all worth it in the end.

But he was grateful for the lack of hair on Sammy’s chest; just that little bit of fluff around his areola that needed to be removed. One wouldn’t even notice it unless you were looking; or tracing his nipple with your fingertips.

“The nipple needs to be fully erect,” Cliff said as he slid his chair back to deposit the razor on the counter behind him. “One of you should do the honors.”

Damn straight one of them was doing it; Dean placed a possessive hand on Sam’s thigh as he glared back at Cliff. He felt Sam shift against him and he knew that the thought of stimulating himself in front of a stranger made Sam uncomfortable.

“You still need to sanitize the area before you start, right?” Dean asked; an idea forming in his head. Sam probably wasn’t going to like it; well, not at first anyway.

“Yes,” Cliff smiled knowingly back at him. And that was all Dean needed to hear.

He turned slightly on the stool he was perched on and placed his other hand on Sam’s shoulder; giving it a light squeeze before he bent down to Sam’s chest. This was going to be the last chance he had to play with this nipple for a while and he intended to take full advantage of it.

Sammy tensed as soon as he leaned over; a jolt shuddering through Sam’s body at the first flick of his tongue across the sensitive nub. Dean traced gently around the area that had been shaved smooth; savoring the texture of Sam’s skin against his tongue almost as much as Sam’s bitten off whimper.

He captured the skin in his teeth; not biting down, just holding it there for his tongue to flick lazily across the tip as Sam arched into him. His hand drifted up from Sammy’s thigh to splay across his brother’s abs just as a large hand cupped around the back of his head – nearly encasing it completely – and the play of muscles under his mouth told him that Sam had tipped his head down.

Warm breath puffed against his forehead as Sam’s breathing grew erratic; Dean suckled the nipple gently as he let his teeth scrape off it. He could almost see Sam trying to hide the flush of desire staining his cheeks with his heavy fall of hair.

Sam’s stomach quivered under his palm as Dean flexed his fingers into the muscles; and he started to trace obscure patterns up Sam’s chest before capturing his other nipple between two fingers, giving it a playful tug.

Dean let his mouth open wider to take more of Sam in, giving the area one last, long pull of suction before sliding off with another scrape of teeth. He sat back up to admire his work, Sam’s chest gleaming with his spit.

His hand flattened against Sam’s abs; the other nub rubbing pleasantly against his palm before Dean let his hand skim over to the right. Thumb and forefinger wrapped around the nipple he’d chosen and Sam gasped out his name. Dean let his gaze drift up to Sam’s face; taking in the blush of pink high on his brothers cheeks and pupils so wide they made Sam’s eyes look black.

“Is that erect enough?” he asked, his gaze only for Sam; even if the words were directed at Cliff.

Cliff coughed behind him and said in a throaty voice, “Yeah”. Dean smirked at Sam as his brothers cheeks deepened to a lovely shade of red and Sam smacked him in the chest.

He chuckled as he gave Sam a pinch before letting him go. Even seeing Cliff’s hand replace his own on Sam’s chest with a swab drenched in rubbing alcohol didn’t bother him.

Sam tilted his head back and closed his eyes as the clamp was applied to his skin; Dean remembered that stubborn _I am not going to cry or show fear_ purse of lips well. Sam had perfected it over countless trips to the hospital for immunizations and tetanus shots. How could he have forgotten how much Sammy hated needles?

He let his hand slide closer to Sam’s neck; fingers digging into the tense muscles along Sammy’s back as he reached up and firmly gripped the hand resting along the chair arm.

“Sam,” he kept his voice firm and even and Sam’s head lifted; green eyes opening to meet Dean’s as he added more softly. “It’s almost over, Sammy.”

There was the faintest pop of needle piercing flesh as he finished speaking and then Cliff was screwing the capture ball on tight.

“That’s a nice fit,” the other man commented as he finished cleaning Sam up.

“How much do we owe you?” Dean wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk anymore.

“Twenty-five,” Cliff told after a slight pause; Dean looked over at him questioningly. Ash had told him the guy charged twenty-five for most piercings and the bar itself was almost that. The guy gave him a wink and Dean shrugged; who was he to argue with a discount.

“Here,” he said as he handed Cliff the bills. “Mind if we take a few?”

“Take your time,” Cliff gave him a full on leer before moving into the other room; Dean waited until he’d drawn the curtain separating the rooms before turning back to Sammy.

Dean stood and leaned down to give Sam a kiss; a quick crush of lips before he settled into the chair Cliff had vacated. Sam looked mesmerizing; a light sheen of sweat coated his broad chest and the color was still high on his cheeks.

He sometimes wondered if he shouldn’t feel intimidated that his baby brother could pass for Paul Bunyan and he, well, couldn’t. But it was always so interesting to watch the play of emotions across Sammy’s face while he mapped out every inch, every contour of those muscles; and really, he didn’t need to be a Goliath like Sam so long as he _had_ Sam.

He loved the feel of twitching muscles beneath his fingers as Sammy fought to control his reactions, the sound of deep, raspy moans as Sammy started to lose it, the crush of those strong arms as Sammy arched against him.

Only this time it was large hands crushing his wrists; stilling his downward motion of light, teasing caresses.

“Dean, stop,” Sam pleaded with him; Dean raised his eyes to Sam’s and saw the – was that fear? He forced himself to relax and breathe deep as Sam continued. “What’s gotten into you? This...” Sam gestured at the tattoo parlor around them with their joined hands. “This isn’t like you, Dean.”

Dean worried his lower lip as he studied Sam; he wasn’t sure this was the question his brother wanted to ask. But until Sam voiced what he _really_ wanted to know it was the only one he could answer.

“I’ve been wanting this a long time, Sam,” he whispered as he twisted one hand free; he placed fingertips gently against Sam’s skin, careful to keep them from touching the freshly pierced flesh. “Remember all those times I teased you that all you needed were your ears pierced? When you first started growing out your hair? I’ve been wanting this since then.”

He saw the fear – or whatever it had been – ease out of Sam’s eyes and his other wrist was released; he let it drift down to curve over Sam’s hip.

“I never let myself imagine that you’d agree to this,” he continued softly; it was suddenly important that Sam understood what this meant to him. “It seemed like talking you into the ears would be the easiest, surest, but this…” he let his fingers trace a circle around Sam’s bar pierced nub, “If I ever let myself wish for anything more, this is what I wanted.”

“Dean,” Sam reached up, placing a finger over his lips. “I get it, now shut up and kiss me.”

Dean smiled against the callused pad before sucking the digit into his warm mouth; he never could resist having Sammy inside him any way he could. He twirled his tongue over the tip while his hand crept off Sam’s hip and ended up at his belt buckle; Dean was getting pretty good at unlatching it one handed.

Sam moaned when Dean sucked his finger all the way in; hips sliding closer to the edge of the chair and his long legs opening as Dean worked the button open and jerked down his zipper. Dean trailed the back of his knuckles up the soft cotton covered length of Sam’s cock while pulling his lips back so Sam could see the sharp, white teeth scraping over his tanned index finger. Dean allowed Sam to rub it in leisurely circles over his lips when he got down to the tip.

“I didn’t exactly have _kissing_ in mind, Sammy,” Dean smirked around Sam’s finger as he slid a hand into his briefs. Sam bucked into Dean’s fist, his head falling back against the seat as he hissed Dean’s name.

Dean took that moment to lunge back onto Sam’s chest, capturing his unmarked nipple with a sharp, playful tug of teeth before moving down to his real target; that hard, heavy weight filling his hand.

He breathed in the musky scent of Sam before swiping up the first salty-sweet drop of fluid with his tongue. The low, throaty moan Sam let out brought an awareness of his own aching cock to the fore and Dean knew he was going to have to make this fast.

Dean swirled his tongue over the tip of Sam’s cock, savoring the heady mix of taste and smell and texture that added up to _Sam_. Long fingers scrabbled at the back of his head as Sam urged “Hurry Dean” above him.

He let his lips stretch over the head of Sam’s cock, shifting slightly in the seat so he could get the angle he needed to take Sam deep. He was good at this, but deep throating Sam always required getting himself in the perfect position first. Dean eased down Sam’s dick, letting his jaw adjust to Sam’s unusually large girth.

Dean pulled back slowly, letting his tongue trace over the familiar veins in Sammy’s cock. Sam was pulsing in his mouth and Dean could feel his own cock responding; vibrating in time with Sam’s. He pushed steadily back down, but – apparently – Sam had had enough preparation and the fingers behind Dean’s head tightened as Sam thrust his hips up.

“Fuck, Dean, I said _hurry_ , not slow the fuck down,” Sam grunted as he pushed up into Dean’s mouth again and it was all Dean could do to grab hold of Sam’s hips and ride it out.

The force of Sam’s next thrust made his eyes water and Dean growled a protest around the cock filling his throat. The hands pressing him down onto Sammy instantly gentled, although Sam’s hips continued to pump up.

Once Dean regained the ability to breathe, he started sucking as Sam pulled out; leaving it up to Sam to bury himself in Dean’s hot, wet mouth. Sammy tensed under him; Dean heard the soft hitch of breath Sam always took before orgasm and then there were hot, salty spurts of come coating his throat.

He swallowed quickly, milking Sammy dry with his throat muscles as Sam arched beneath him. Sam let out a soft, almost inaudible gasp as he melted back into the chair and Dean had to smile; the only way Sam ever managed to be _that_ quiet was by biting down on something.

As bruised as Dean’s lips were after the beating they’d just taken, he was willing to bet Sam’s looked worse. He glanced up at Sam as he gently tucked his brother back into his jeans.

“Ready to go, Sugarplum?” Dean grinned at Sam’s offended expression and stood up, snatching Sam’s shirts off the counter and tossing them onto Sam’s stomach.

“Yeah,” Sam pulled the t-shirt over his head, wincing slightly as the material grazed over his chest before moving over into Dean’s space. Sam’s large hand reached down to cup Dean’s cock through the worn jeans and it took all Dean’s willpower not to bend him over the counter top as Sam added huskily. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

“Nope” Dean smirked back at him before grabbing his arm. Dean leaned close to whisper in Sammy’s ear as he pulled him out the door. “I’m waiting till we get back to the motel. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit for two weeks.”  



End file.
